Sherlock Holmes and the case of the London Robberies
by KeithD
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has come across another mystery. The elite of London are having their precious items stolen. It is up to Sherlock Holmes to use his masterful means of deduction to solve another mystery. This time he is going to need a little help.
**Sherlock Holmes and the case of the London Robberies**

"Where is that _bloody_ paper?" Mrs. Hudson cursed as she rummaged through her things. She knew that the paper had in fact been delivered because her friend Margo had rang her to tell her about the 'fretful robberies' that had plagued London lately. London's richest of the rich were being burgled and having their possessions stolen right out of their most secretive of hiding places. It seemed as though there was no way of preventing their items from being burgled.

"Oh. That rubbish. I finished it ages ago, Mrs. Hudson. I provided you the service of tossing it in the waste where it belongs."

Mrs. Hudson didn't need to look up though her open doorway to know the very familiar voice of the infamous Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

"You threw it out?" stammered Mrs. Hudson.

"Precisely." replied Holmes.

Mrs. Hudson was a little less then shocked. Over the many years that Sherlock Holmes had inhabited 221B Baker street, she had grown accustomed to the many inconveniences. Waking up to her newspaper missing was nothing new. At least it wasn't one of her many goldfish, three of her floorboards or any number of 'necessities' that Mr. Holmes had liberated from her apartment at ungodly hours in order to conduct his experiments. All without her permission or knowledge.

"Well how am I suppose to read about the recent robberies, if I do not have _MY_ newspaper to read them in?" asked Mrs. Hudson.

"Why would you want to read about them when you are about to witness the developments first hand?" Holmes exclaimed. " You see it is by my estimation that these robberies are all connected to something greater and that yours truly the masterful Sherlock Holmes will shortly be called upon to take up the charge and solve this case."

"..." Mrs. Hudson could not reply because of the on cue appearance of a short husky gentlemen with dark brown hair. He wore a long grey overcoat and a pristine top hat that had the elegance worn only by someone who had more bank notes then necessary to spend of such frivolous things.

"Mr. LaPonte, I presume." Stated Sherlock Holmes in a manner that was both knowing and expectant.

"Yes, but how did you..." The short man was immediately interrupted

"The coat you own is from last season's line, which means you are in a profession that can afford you such luxuries but not every year. Your instep on your left leg insinuates that your profession that doesn't require you move around a lot. You have a small amount of blood on the inside of the right cuff of your shirt yet your shave is meticulous, discounting that it is your blood. By my deduction you are a dentist or a murder and since the only crime spree that the newspapers are reporting on are robberies you must be the first. Finally since the newspapers have done _such_ a terrible hiding their sources, the prime suspect in the recent robberies is a dentist leading me to believe you are the man the police believe is the main suspect in the recent robberies. Therefore you must be Mr. LaPonte, the dentist the police have been questioning lately that the newspaper mentioned this morning. You must be here because you believe I can clear your name. The only real mystery is why the newspapers bothered to omit your name in the first place."

The man stood there with the ever so common face that Mrs. Hudson had seen many times expressed at 221B Baker street. Dumbfounded he stammered, "You deduced all of that from my coat and cuff?"

"Elementary." Stated Holmes as he spun on his heels dramatically and started walking up the steps to his apartment, only to stop and look back at the man. "Are you going to come upstairs or are you going to stand in Mrs. Hudson's doorframe all day?" The man had been so shocked the previous events that he didn't notice the presence of Mrs. Hudson till that very moment. He quickly apologized, awkwardly and stumbled forward and upstairs to the apartment which Mr. Holmes conducted all of his business.

. . . . . .

The things about 221B Baker street was that it was in fact a very old building. Constructed almost a century before, it had the feel of an old cottage and gaps in the boards that let in a draft cold enough to make a military gentlemen curse whenever the wind blew. One of the other very notable things about 221B Baker street was that there was a vent that went from the upstairs apartment right to Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. One could almost make out a full conversation if they pressed themselves as close to the kitchen vent while standing on a chair. Which in this particular moment was exactly as Mrs. Hudson was doing. What then transpired was a very muffled conversation between Mr. Laponte and Sherlock Holmes:

"...so you see that is why I am being questioned by the police. Every time a house gets robbed the owner of the house is in my company. I am being framed, you must believe me Mr. Holmes." explained the muffled voice of Mr. Laponte.

"I make it my business to never believe anyone," retorted Holmes. "Not until I have enough evidence."

"Well I have all the evidence you need. Every time there is a robbery I am with the very person who is getting robbed. How can I rob them if they are with me? See I had my photograph taken with Mr. Ray the day he was robbed. And here is me with Mrs. Harris the night she was burgled..." A few more names of different high ranking socialites where added with a pause after each.

As per usual Mrs. Hudson was beside herself with excitement. This was the start to a classic Sherlock Holmes case. And as always she would listen to it through the vent and read about it's exciting conclusion in the paper in a day or two. The conversation between Holmes and Laponte continued for only a short period of time longer before Laponte excused himself on other matters. As soon as the door to 221B Baker street clicked with the department of Mr. Laponte, the familiar sound of boots pacing around the upstairs apartment began. The infamous Sherlock Holmes was at work. The game was afoot.

. . . . . .

The smell as Mrs. Hudson entered the room was off-putting to say the least. Things got this way when Mr. Holmes was stuck. She had seen him stuck before but never like this. The papers weren't helping. There were three more robberies and the general consensus of the papers had turned from suspicions to superstition. One week the papers reported that the burglar was a trained monkey the next it was the ghost of the former king of England taking back what was his. One thing was unanimously clear among all the papers. Whoever it was that was committing the robberies, Sherlock Holmes could not catch them.

Mrs. Hudson sorted some papers and shoed away a spider from a mostly alive Sherlock Holmes who was currently slouched over on his dining room table. She tidied up and he would pop up for a second with a look as if he remembered something, then in a defeated manner would lower his head.

"... _data...I...need more data."_ Sherlock Holmes muttered after each unsuccessful epiphany.

Looking at the poor man, Mrs. Hudson piped up and said, "Why don't you go out for a nice walk? Clear your head. By the time you get back I will have evening tea ready for you."

Rather than answering. Holmes pulled his bones mostly upright and staggered to the door, grabbing his long trench coat that was tossed on the ground beside the door. Mrs. Hudson understood her limited window to tidy up. It was both a race against the increasing number of insects that had been attracted to the vile workspace of piled dishes and photographs and string and notebooks as well as a race against the return of Sherlock Holmes and his eventual continuation of his messy work style. Mrs. Hudson sputtered around, organizing and cleaning. She never interfered with his work but it was something about the pictures on his table that always piqued the interest of Mrs. Hudson _. It was right there in the pictures_. She knew who had committed the robberies. She quickly grabbed one photo and set it next to another. She pushed three more out of the way and searched for a few seconds and picked up another. Soon her collage of the mystery was complete. Work was not done. She scuttled off and started on other needed preparations before making a cup of tea.

. . . . . .

Sherlock Holmes returned home drenched in London's finest weather. Climbing the steps, Mrs. Hudson was otherwise busy on the phone with the chief of police. Mr. Holmes was not up in his apartment for more than a minute before he called to Mrs. Hudson to ring Mr. Laponte to tell him the good news that he had solved the case.

"He is already on his way!" Yelled up Mrs. Hudson with much excitement in her voice.

. . . . . .

Mr. Laponte entered the upper apartment with a wide grin on his face. His coat still wet from the same weather that inhabited Holmes' hung up trench coat.

"I came as quick as quick as my cab could make it. I was told you have found the person who is framing me." Said Mr. Laponte.

"I have." Said Mr. Holmes " The persons that are responsible for all of these robberies are the people who own the possessions themselves."

"I don't follow." Responded Laponte quizzically.

"Do you recognize this plant?" Holmes held up a photo of a blue and green flower. "Don't bother, it's the very plant you have in your study. The Malpighiaceae plant which contains dimethyltryptamine, a very powerful hallucinogen that when administers leaves the victim in a trance like state completely susceptible to suggestion. Much like for example getting into a safe that only the owner of the safe would have the combination to. You didn't steal from these people, they stole from themselves for you. And if I am not mistaken Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to ring the police for me and that would be them now."

On cue there was a loud rapping on the door.

. . . . . .

Mrs. Hudson picked the morning paper out of the rubbish bin and read out loud. ' _The infamous Sherlock Holmes cracks another case. This time he credits his success to a dear friend for helping him catch the infamous London Theif._ '

"How did you know about the Malpighiaceae plant Mrs. Hudson?" asked Holmes seeming to appear out of thin air. "I spent weeks pouring over every detail of every photo in that room."

"Elementary my dear Sherlock Holmes, Elementary."


End file.
